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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868910">(Un) Proper Etiquette</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_the_lemon_fox/pseuds/Mango_the_lemon_fox'>Mango_the_lemon_fox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair-pulling, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Trichotillomania</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_the_lemon_fox/pseuds/Mango_the_lemon_fox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The sides finally decide they should come together as a family, putting their differences aside, and it’s just as difficult as they thought. </p><p>Deceit struggles with a secret he’s been keeping for as long as he can remember, a secret that is physically tearing him apart.</p><p>All as the Author attempts to battle against their own inner demons.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Mad Hatter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi Author here!</p><p>Hope your are all Having wonderful night or day! This is actually a short fic I’m writing to bring a bit more awareness to obsessive  compulsive disorders, such as Trichotillomania. If you find those topics triggering to you please don’t read!</p><p>(I’ll update soon, not specific dates though)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Deceit had an affinity for his hat, he was barely anywhere without it: he wore it around the mindscape, he wore it to videos, Roman even swore Deceit wore it to bed- and to his credit, his theory was correct. Of course everyone has their likes, and Deceits seemed to be that midnight black bowler cap. That's all it was, all it could be, a preference...</p><p>The stars hug from the sky, night shrewding both Thomas’s and the sides world in darkness. And the sides fell into their usual evening routine; Patton busy cleaning up from dinner, Logan searching for a book to read before bed, Virgil listening to music curled up on the couch, Deceit observing Thomas as he slipped a lie to himself about ‘finishing this episode and then going to sleep’, and Remus and Romans settling in for a restless night, creativity never truly sleeps.<br/>
It was a simple but successfully quiet routine.</p><p> </p><p>Well, except for one side, a side that swore ‘quietness’ was one of the most universally accepted lies he’d ever come across. How could there be silence with a world that is in constant motion, how can there be silence when you're always met with the sound of your own breath, the nonexistent ringing in your ears….a burning inside your own head.</p><p>There was a wrapping at his door.</p><p>“Yes?” Deceit asked his voice rich with trepidation, he already knew who was there, the side had a signature three light but stern knocks.</p><p>“I know it’s a bit late, but we’re going to have a little fam.I.L.Y  meeting, it would be really nice if you could join us.” Patton smield, his voice stung with sweetness as the side waited patiently for the snake's response.</p><p>Deceit leaned into his blankets, it was almost impressive how much he hated the idea of a ‘fam.I.L.Y’ meeting. It would turn into another opportunity for the so-called ‘light sides’ to insult them, had Remus agreed? oh of course he had; Remus wouldn’t pass an opportunity to hangout with his brother.<br/>
“Why?”</p><p>“ ‘Why’ What hun?” </p><p>“Why do you want me to come?” Deceit asked with a calmness that cut through the air. There were so many more things he wanted to ask, questions that throttled against his mind's containment. ‘Why do you ask for my input if you already know you won’t take it?’ Deceit coddled deeper into his blankets. ‘Why do you use that sweet tone, why conceal your disgust?’ Patton’s very voice, a lie. ‘Why do you insist on us being incorporated into your ‘fam.I.L.Y’ yet continue to belittle us? Why.’</p><p>“It’s a family meeting, that means all of us, we all want to have a discussion together” Patton smirked, the hypocrisy in that statement seemed to defy physics itself.</p><p>“I guess I have no choice then.” Deceit said dryly, a slight sneer slipping from the snake half of his lips. He tossed the blankets aside, stepping into the cold night air, striating his caplet as he walked over to open the door. </p><p>Opening the door, he was met with Patton’s usual and impressive expression, a cheery smirk, beaming expression, and cold eyes that seemed to judge his very soul. Sighing, he cast Patton a tired look then stepped into the hallway adjusting his hat as he took on a more brazen demeanor. </p><p>“You always have a choice....” Patton said. His voice filled with cheerful aviation, as he followed Deceit down the poorly lit stairs. Patton was an enigma. He acted like everyone's good ol dad, prancing around without a care in the world, but Deceit could see it in his eyes; Patton only showed a fraction of who he truly was.</p><p>As the two entered the down stairs they were met with the sides sitting at the counter, except for Virgil who was snuggled up on the couch, and Remus who was sitting on top of the counter refusing to let Roman pull him off. </p><p>“I thought this was a meeting not a circus..” Deceit groaned as he took a spot leaning against the kitchen wall, this was nonsense.</p><p>“Alright can everyone quiet down..” Patton smiled awkwardly as the room shushed immediately. Everyone really listened to him, really trusted him, and Deceit thought he was the puppet master. </p><p>“Ok...so I figured that since we're all trying to become more of a fam.I.L.Y.” Patton smield taking a quick glance at Remus and Deceit before continuing: “I think we should all take some time once a week or so to really talk altogether..” Patton smiled shyly as Logan handed the moral side what seemed to be some sort of agenda. “Now does anyone have any concerns or anything they’d just like to share with the group?” Patton asked nervously. Maybe Deceit and Patton had at least one thing in common: they both knew this would end horribly.</p><p>“Well maybe someone needs to join us first” Deceit hissed looking over at Virgil who lay comfortably bundled up on the couch. If he was going to have to stand this stupidity then everyone did. </p><p>“I’m not joining the meeting if the snakes there.” Virgil said dryly, coiling up into a tighter ball of darkness. </p><p>“Oh, does the raccoon not wish to address me properly? Rude.” Deceit fired back as the others waited in award silence, well except for Remus, he seemed rather intrigued.</p><p>“It’s rude to wear your hat inside.” Virgil retorted, peering over the couch with a hiss. </p><p>“What? No it’s not.” Deceit defended, looking around the room almost fearfully. </p><p>“Well technically Virgil is somewhat correct, except for some exceptions, wearing hats inside is considered in western culture as rude or inappropriate..though this is seen by a lot of people as outdated and is heavily debated, as most proper hat etiquette is ” Logan said, tapping his glasses slightly.</p><p>“Well..then I guess I’ll be seeing my way out.” Deceit hissed defensively, and then in a blink of confusion he stomped up the stairs. Leaving everyone in stark disbelief. </p><p>“Was it my explanation?” Logan asked but everyone just stood in silent confuzzlement. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>    _______________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Deceit slammed the door behind him!<br/>
He barely knew what had just happened, all he knew was he needed out.</p><p>‘Fuck them, </p><p>fuck Virgil, </p><p>fuck Logan,</p><p> and fuck ‘proper ettquite!’’</p><p> He thought to himself as he locked the door. </p><p>Then with a sigh, he strode over to the small bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. Holding the door as he trembled slightly and switched on the dim light.<br/>
Approaching the mirror cautiously, then with a slight chuckle he took off his hat, revealing the beast that lay beneath. </p><p>Deceit stood in front of the mirror, every fragment of the glass seeming to taunt him. His face worn and tired, scales bleak and chipped, eyes dull and shallow, and worst of all his hair.<br/>
Deceits hair was thin and frail, the normal rich brown taking on a more ghostly appearance, there were also several patches where his hair had been completely torn out, it was a hairdressers nightmare. </p><p>It felt as if that’s how it had always been, when had it even started, he wasn’t  sure… It’s just how Deceit coped, when he was called 2-faced, when the other sides looked at his scales as if they were disgusted, when Thomas refused to listen to him,<br/>
He’d start pulling his hair out. </p><p>He imagined it was something of a spurt of bad luck, a young Deceit seeking out a release of pain instead of the warm embrace of love. Of course now it certainly wasn’t a release, it was a curse, a monster, a being off its own welling up Inside him. He’d pull a hair then he’d feel bad about it and to release that guilt he’d pull another, irony.<br/>
But, the more he lay in the darkness, in the silence, he started to wander, was it just bad luck or did fate really hate him as much as everyone else did. </p><p>Then the fire started. </p><p>The more he started into his reflection, the more a burning seemed to grow within his chest. It felt like he was on fire, the flames boroughing deeper and deeper, dancing all throughout his throbbing muscles. The heat rose, culminating in his head, smoldering his very brain, digging through his scalp. </p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t do this anymore, his fingers were literally jittering, begging, demanding, he needed to pull.<br/>
Deceit had been pull free for a whole week, and all of that was going down the drain, it was all for nothing. Did it even matter? Maybe he could just hide in his room, the light sides could help Thomas in the light, and he could help Thomas in the dark. </p><p>It would truly be how it was meant to be.</p><p>The monster would finally be put in a cage. </p><p> </p><p>Deceit began slowly pulling out strands of his hair, starting out with violent desperation, then turning to guilty soft plucks. He was an art piece really, a poetic warning to all those who were heading down a dark path. That’s all he was, a painting, to be seen, to be feared, but never touched, never talked to, never cared about.<br/>
Paintings are just distorted mirrors, things we don’t look at for what they are, but what they say about ourselves. And artists, the greatest deceivers of all.</p><p>Deceit sighed, leaning helplessly against the bathroom door, eyes glazed and teary, clumps of hair laying all over in miserable piles. Birds pluck their feathers out when stressed, cats chew off fur, rats over groom, he really was just an animal, not a human cursed with scales, but a beastly snake disguised in human flesh. </p><p>*knock* *knock* *knock*</p><p>They were light, silky sweet as cotton candy, but still quite apparent.</p><p>“Hey...I know that the meeting didn’t go as planned, and I’m not asking you to come back...it's already over actually…. I just wanted to check on you.” Patton whispered, as if the words were almost painful. </p><p>“I’m fine, I guess I was just tired. Sorry for walking out like that.” Deceit answered immediately. It was a robotic response, rehearsed, a faultily executed falsehood.<br/>
He couldn’t even lie right anymore.</p><p>What a disgrace. </p><p>“Deceit, are you sure you're fine.” He paused, leaning against the door. “I know that we haven’t been very good to you and Remus in the past, but I really hope we can make up for that. Your Thomas’s lies, and that is just as important...as everything..else…” Patton said with obvious hesitation. </p><p>Though Deceit didn’t care how much the parent-esc side wanted to offer him fake promises, he was more concerned with how his job was being portrayed.</p><p>saying he was in charge of lies, that was an oversimplification, actually more of a lie in of itself. Deceiving someone isn’t just about speaking truthful, it’s about your expression, your persona, even the way you walk. When you go to a job interview you act like you're calm even if you're nervous, that’s not really telling a lie but it’s definitely an act of deceiving. When you put in a smile for a family photo is that really a lie?<br/>
His name wasn't lie, it was Deceit.<br/>
Not that any of this was worth explaining, they would always see him as what they wanted, see him as the dark parts of themselves, all the things they wished to hide away,<br/>
He was an art piece, and they were the critics.</p><p>“Thank you Patton, but I’m genuinely fine, just tired.”<br/>
Deceit said after a moment of contemplation.</p><p>Patton reminded Deceit of Remus, the creative side often coming to check on him, only for Deceit to lie to his face. Not that Patton was anything like Remus, Remus actually cared.</p><p>    _______________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Deceit eventually managed to drag himself off the tile floor and into the warm confinements of his bed. There he could cuddle up in a cocoon of blankets, letting the world slip away like morning dew. </p><p>In the darkness he could just laps into states of nothingness, dissolve into parts so small all his pain became nothing but subtle inconsistencies. It was so beautiful to fall apart. </p><p>Faintly as he lapsed between awake and asleep and some state between, he could hear a faint sound ringing out his door. Sounded like it was coming from Romans room..though then again it could also be Patton’s..they were right next to each other. </p><p> </p><p>‘Someday I’ll wish upon star, </p><p>wake up where the clouds out far behind me</p><p>Where trouble melts like lemon drops’</p><p> </p><p>__________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Logan had woken up rather early that morning, steadily walking down the stairs, surveying the empty commens, and whipping up a cup of instant coffee.<br/>
It was a routine that Logan had come to be familiar with, and it was rather nice, he could have a guaranteed 20 minutes or so of quiet; As the other sides sometimes didn’t wake up till 10:00 due to their atrocious sleep schedules. </p><p>Through today, maybe not.</p><p>As Logan sat in the living room, taking careful sips of his hot drink, he heard the faint footsteps of someone creeping up behind him. He’d actually gotten quite good at noticing when someone was behind him after Patton had decided that seeing him scared was ‘adorable’ or something.</p><p>“Patton, Is that you? You're up early.” Logan said in his usual flat tone, not even bothering to turn around as he was far too engrossed in his book. </p><p>“Patton, I thought he was still asleep?” Came the distorted tone of a side who went by many names, ‘The Duke’, ‘dark creativity’, ‘Romans mildly psychotic brother’, though Logan didn’t really care for any of the superfluous nicknames. </p><p>“Oh, hello there Remus, I just assumed you were Patton, as he is the one who usually sneaks up behind me.” Logan said plainly as Remus came and took a seat next to Logan on the couch. </p><p>“Oh.” Remus said blankly, sinking into the couch cushions as they sat in stark silence.</p><p>“By the way Remus, I was curious if I could ask you something.” Logan said curiously.</p><p>“What’s on your mind dork.” Remus smiled, his feet kicking back and forth impatiently.</p><p>“Do you think I over-explain things.” Logan said as the world seemed to fall off its axes for at least a nano second.</p><p>“Ummm, why are you asking me?” Remus said looking over at Logan’s expressionless face. </p><p>“Well I’d ask the others..but they’d just tell me I was perfect the way I was, or some over mindless jumble, I just want some honest criticism, and you seem to just say whatever you really feel.” Logan explained, taking a sip of his coffee.</p><p>“Ok...hmmmm, well I guess I wouldn’t say you over explain things..your logic and your provide us with complete and unbiased answers...I think that’s a good thing.” Remus smiled, his chaotic demeanor seeing to drop for just a second. “Where did this come from?” Remus asked as the conversation began to shed its awkward shell.</p><p>“Well I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but last night when I was explaining the proper etiquette surrounding Deceits hat-“ Logan was cut off as Remus butted in. </p><p>“Oh don’t go worrying about that. Deceit is always, like super protective of his hat, like they've honesty probably banged, there that close.” Remus chuckled as Logan gave him an empty expression. </p><p>“Intriguing..” was all Logan replied.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Eroding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi Author here!</p><p>Oh my gosh!!! The latest episode though!!<br/>Spoilers, go watch the latest episode before this!!!!<br/>Also hope y’all are doing good!</p><p> </p><p>Also warning this chapter has some blood in it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Erosion, the power that allows water to soften the ridges of stones, the subtle flattening of frequented hiking trails, rust licking the edges of metal. It’s a complex occurrence, but Deceit knew simply, he was eroding. </p><p>He’d first run off to his room, absorbing himself in a sanctuary of satisfaction and silence, then as the days started to pass by, he fell deeper and deeper in that silence. He started ignoring the sharp knocks at his door, which made his head hurt more, ignored Remus’s whines, didn’t answer that time Logan had come to ask if he’d taken his book on octopus’s psychology (why was he reading that?!??) And then before he knew it, a week had passed, a week he spent as a prisoner o the burning in his head, fire as fierce as if he were in hell. Maybe he was.</p><p>Deceit awoke, feeling the warmth of his blanket, being rather reptilian, his body head was quite lacking, though not completely absent. But in order to not freeze he still had a heated blanket, though the blanket didn’t prevent him from the cold outside of the confinement of his bed. That’s why he wore such well insulated clothes, he needed to hold onto what little heat he had.</p><p>Deceit then felt that familiar tick, that sound that swam through him as nimble as a fish, his eyes turning foggy. But, he ignored it, running his hand through his hair, which only made the itching feeling worse as he pulled himself out of bed.</p><p>He was also rather hungry. Sides do need to eat, as much as anyone else.  Deceit wasn't even sure what would happen if one side attempted to ignore such, he didn’t want to think about it.</p><p> Deceit walked over to his hat stand and tossed on his midnight bowler cap, touched with a tiny yellow ribbon, and placed the hat he had worn to bed, a dark blue bowler cap with a small snake embroidered on the rim, onto the stand. Deceit could at best be considered a hat collector at worst an exstream hat horder, they literally were spilling out of his closet. Maybe it was the hair, hair is usually used as a way to express oneself, and his many different hats were an attempt to make up for it, not a successful attempt though. </p><p>Deceit then dressed in his usual button up and caplet, tossing his pajamas in a small basket next to his closet. Honestly for such a mysterious side, his room was rather dull. He had a simple small bed tucked against a wall, closet, a desk with a laptop and various books (mainly books of philosophy and politics), along with of course his own personal bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Then he strode towards the door, hesitantly reaching out and gripping onto the cold door handle. He was physically shivering as he stepped out the door, bloodshot eyes staring warily into the abandoned hallway. This had become a daily and terrifying routine, he’d wake up at 6 sharp, (not doll, he is timely ) and sneak down to the kitchen and grab whatever  he could find left laying in the fridge.</p><p>Deceit stepped down the hallway, taking in every sound, every movement, careful as a field mouse. If he were caught they’d win, they would prove that no matter what they did to him he’d just come flocking back, but no more! It would be just as they wanted, a tamed lion, a snake with his fangs removed, a bird trapped in a cage. At least this way he’d be the one who subdued himself. </p><p>Then as he reached the bottom of the state he went ghost white. Sitting lazily on the couch was Patton, he was wrapped up in a blanket sipping some sort of hot beverage with a plate of cookies perched next to him, the tv playing the ‘wizard of oz’. </p><p>‘Where off to see the wizard-‘<br/>
Humming throughout the room.</p><p>Deceit, wasn't sure if he should bolt up the stairs or sneak past the moral side who seemed deeply entranced with the frivolous fantasy fluttering across the tv. </p><p>But, Deceit couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t be sure the moral side hadn't already noticed him, waiting to strike like a kitten onto an unsuspecting feather.<br/>
So he left, took a quick turn and walked back up the stairs, back through the hallways and quickly shut himself into his room. Feeling empty. </p><p>And of course as soon as he entered the room, his tormentors were there to greet him. The invisible forces that made every follicle of his hair ache. But what was worse than any of that, he was alone, completely alone, just him and who he feared most himself. </p><p>Deceit then found himself walking into the bathroom, hands digging into the very depths of his scalp. Kinda like a cat, playing with his prey. </p><p>But, then he caught a glance at the mirror, his hat tucked under his arm, the rat nest of a hairstyle taunting him from its home inside the glass. And for a brief glimpse, everything stopped making sense. </p><p>Deceit didn’t even bother to give the mirror another glance before he started digging his fists into it. Bang, bang, bang, he smashed his wobbly hands against the glass, and slowly but surely cracks started appearing across the delicate surface. The cracks of course serving only to edge him on, daring him to let the rage consume him, ghost white knuckles slamming hard against the mirror.</p><p>“I just want it to continue”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>“Continue”</p><p>His compulsive lying kicking in as he was consumed by stress.</p><p>“Please..”</p><p>“I’m not sorry.” His voice was as soft as an angel, but it rang through the room as if he had screamed it! </p><p>Finally the mirror was nothing more than a collection of sharp fragments, but Deceit didn’t care, he still. continued ramming against it, hands becoming battered in bruises and cuts!</p><p>The bathroom was a mess, glass, blood, and hair, all evenly spread across. Though if you really think about it, maybe it wasn’t really a mess, more an intricate piece of art, modern art has no limits these days, but the message of such a piece would/was (be) quite somber. </p><p> </p><p>Deceit finally stopped after his knuckles were descently massacred, blood dripping onto the floor, hands throbbing, and eyes clouded. Quickly he turned on the faucet and began attempting to wash off the blood, hissing as the cold water seemed to light the cuts on fire.  </p><p>And as Deceit finally stopped the water and began wiping away the blood with a towel he couldn’t help but feel bitter; His knuckles and fingers were some of the only parts of his hands and part of his arms not drenched in slimy green scales, they were the only parts that were actually nice to look at, and now he ruined them, what a shame. </p><p>Sloppily wrapping his hands in some medical tape he eventually wandered out of the horrific bathroom and back towards the comfort of his bed. </p><p>Then out of nowhere, there was a knocking at the door, the pattern was erratic and intense. It sounded as if someone was trying to stay calm whilst simultaneously being chased by someone with a chainsaw, maybe they were being chased by someone with a chainsaw, Deceit wouldn’t put it past the light sides.</p><p> </p><p>“Ja-“ Remus said, still knocking on the door, he sounded like a whimpering puppy. </p><p>“Don’t use my name out in the open!”  Deceit hissed half from anger, half from the pain of moving his hands as he pulled his blankets tighter around himself, cozying up in his bed. </p><p> </p><p>“Dee…..., can I come in please...I’m lonely..”  It was Remus, he sounded as if he were crying.</p><p>“Not right now Rem…” </p><p>“ But I got into a fight with Roman and then then Patton told us both to go away and calm down so we can have a conversation not blinded by anger…”</p><p>“That’s a lie.” Deceit answered as quick as light, hugging his pillow against his chest, it felt like a cloud. </p><p>“Is it?” Remus asked as Deceit heard him lean against the door</p><p>“If we can be blinded by anger, we can just as easily be blinded by passivity.” Deceit huffed, he just wanted to be alone, he may have put himself in a cage, but he wasn’t a zoo animal. </p><p> </p><p>“I guess that makes sense.” Remus lolled, leaning in his slouch against the door. “Are you sure I can’t come in, I know you are mad or something, but what did I do?” Remus complained as he absentmindedly tapped his finger against the door.</p><p>“No”<br/>
It didn’t matter who came to his door, he couldn’t let them see him in this state, see how much he’d eroided.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Falling, Fallen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wack, I’m back. This is a short little chapter but I’ve already started on the next so that should be up soon. I just got all caught up in life stuff.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...See sometimes I have bad days too, but then usually Roman or Virge will come cheer me up.” The side laughed, his buttercream smile resident in his trademark tone. “And what I’m really trying to say here is you just need to talk to someone, bottling up your feelings doesn't help anyone” The moral side drawled as he slouched against the door with a soft ‘thump’.<br/>“Maybe try talking to Remus..I know he’s kinda crazy but he was the one who told me to talk ‘some sense into you’ his words not mine.” Patton laughed nervously. “And if you want, I know we don’t really get along but I wouldn’t mind lending an ear.” He added, his voice a strained plea.</p><p>Deceit didn’t answer.</p><p>“Yeah, if I were you I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”<br/>Patton grinned sadly. “Well-“ He took a second to let out a kitten sized yawn, “I was going to make some late night cookies so if you want some just SLITHER downstairs.” He smiled at his own pun, sleepily starting to walk away from the door</p><p>Deceit didn’t answer.</p><p>“Hope your ok”</p><p>Yet as Patton left, creeping across the shadowy twilight, Deceit couldn’t hide the longing in his chest, the voice curling in the depths of his throat. But he kept his mouth shut, hugging his knees to his chest as he leaned against the door. He stayed silent.</p><p>Until he couldn’t. </p><p>That was the third time Patton came to the lyng side’s door, the third time he made that cute little nervous laugh, the third time he’d told all those pretty little lies Deceit couldn’t quite place, but was darn sure of. </p><p>Deceit reached to grab the glass of water resting on the edge of his bedside table, ungloved fingers reaching out and grasping onto the cold surface. Then, as he attempted to bring the stale drink to his lips, his fingers slipped, the water spilling onto the black rug and the collar of his pant leg.</p><p>He couldn’t take it anymore.</p><p>“Oh, I actually forgot to mention, Remus wanted me to tell you that he made this thing in the imagination and-“</p><p>“If 60% of us is made of water, is drinking it cannibalism?” Deceit cut him off, his voice rich with fairy dust.</p><p>“WATER you asking for.” Patton chuckled back, his tone sounded playful, but there was a gratefulness in his desperately fast reply, a enthusiasm in the way he hurried back over to sit back down by the door.</p><p>“Just curious.” Deceit responded, a placidly in his demeanor that betrayed the situation. And in all honesty, if Deceit could be honest, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing. He’d spent weeks ignoring everyone, including one of the only sides he considered a friend, and here he was speaking to someone he couldn’t stand. loneliness really is blind. </p><p>“Do you want to make cookies?”</p><p>“Yeah..” Deceit mumbled, slowly getting to his feet and shooting a glance over at his mirror. He was dressed in violently dark sweatpants with a black shirt that had a yellow snake on the front. His hair, frazzled and patchy, eyes worn and dreary, hands still wrapped in bandages covered with dry blood. Sighing, he grabbed a black beanie from his hat rack, as his top hat seemed too formal, and cautiously opened the door.</p><p> And that moment, the one he’d been dreading, where Patton would stare in amazement, all ‘Oh wow you're out of your room time to make it all awkward for dramatic suspense.’ It never happened, Patton simply took Deceits bandaged hand in his, causing him to wince slightly as he pulled him out the door and down the hall. It was as smooth and plain as if it were nothing more than a daily chore. A chore, that’s what it was right? Patton was just hanging out with him to get Remus to leave him alone. </p><p>“The others should be asleep so after this you can just go back to hiding in your room as if this never happened.” Patton smield, not even giving Deceit a glance. His voice was as sincere as the first snow of winter. </p><p>The two sides soon found themselves in the sanctuary dark kitchen. Of course that was only after passing by a kaleidoscope of uncomfort; The feel of Patton’s hands hung fiddly in his; The sight of Virgil's familiar and unwelcomed ‘stay out’ sign taped to his door;  And the wishy washy tension as the two both tried to figure out why eachother were still there. </p><p>“So, what kinda cookies do you like?” Patton asked with a nervous grin, starting to fiddle through the cabinets. Pulling out flour, eggs, milk- oh, milk Deceit was allergic to milk. Just as he was allergic to the the bar of butter Patton was grabbing out of the fridge.</p><p>“I guess I kinda like the raisin ones, but I’m ok with anything.” Deceit drawled, cumbersomely taking a seat at the counter, folding into the fragile warmth of his slightly too big shirt. “And I can’t eat that.” He said, pointing towards the butter.</p><p>“Oh, you can't have butter?” Patton asked, placing the butter back into the fridge with a curious expression.</p><p>“No dairy products.” Deceit mused, his lips forming into a tired frown, fiddling with his sleeve. </p><p>“That’s fine, I know some great dairy free recipes! You mean oatmeal raisin right?” Patton smield, standing on his tile toes as he grabbed a recipe book from on top of the counter.  </p><p>“Yeah.” Deceit said dryly as Patton began flipping through the colorfully designed book. </p><p>“Perfect, I have this one right here! I’ve never actually tried it out though, guess the others just like plain old chocolate chip.” Patton chirped, placing the milk back in the fridge and going to gather more ingredients.</p><p>“Do you ever get bored of being nice Patton?” Deceit then asked, causing Patton to startel slightly, almost dropping his bundle of peanut butter, raisins and oatmeal.</p><p>“That’s an odd question.” He smirked, adding flour, cinnamon, baking powder, etc into a small purple bowl.<br/>“I don’t think so, I like being nice.” He concluded, flour splattering across his cheek. “Do you ever get bored of pretending like you're not nice?” He asked, pushing the bowl and a spoon towards Deceit.</p><p>“I think this moment proves I do” Deceit almost laughed, starting to stir together the ingredients which had mostly become a mist of white.</p><p>“I guess so.” Patton said with a strained but sincere smile as he battled with the lid on a jar of peanut butter. </p><p>“Need help?” Deceit prompted, brow quirking slightly. His head was itching slightly, but he forced those inclinations away, hand shaking slightly. </p><p>“No! I got this.” Patton protested with a trademark  laugh, before of course the lid sprang off, causing him to topple backwards, crashing onto the floor.</p><p>“Patton!” Deceit yelled as he ran over to check on the moral side, who was still laughing.</p><p>“I’m fine, I’m fine” he chuckled as Deceit reluctantly helped him to his feet. “I mean the peanut butter jar is finally aJAR.” He beamed with a light smirk watching Deceits worry fade into a forced frown.</p><p>And maybe it was that moment or all the many that followed( They started making 3 am baking a clandestine weekly rituale, from oatmeal cookies to ice cream bread, they made everything in the book. And as for late night door chats, those were twice a week) but Deceit knew he was falling.</p><p>And the worst part was,</p><p>He couldn’t decide if the love letter he’d accidentally started writing or the growing blaze inside his mind was when he’d fallen.</p>
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